


Tiny Dancer

by whatstheproblembaby



Series: Evi!verse [19]
Category: Glee
Genre: Daddies!Klaine, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4799702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatstheproblembaby/pseuds/whatstheproblembaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anon prompted: klaine at their little girl’s first ballet show and shes only 3 and looks so small and cute on stage and they are both so emotional because their baby is up on stage and doing so well and in the middle of the performance she stops to look for her daddies just to wave at them and say hi and its tHE CUTEST THING EVER</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tiny Dancer

**Author's Note:**

> Did I use my own first ballet costume/dance number for this? Absolutely.

“Oh my God, I’m so nervous I could puke.”

“I’d make fun of you for being nervous for something we’re not even participating in, but honestly, I’m feeling the same way,” Kurt said, twisting his small pink program in his hands. “I think this is more stressful than Nationals ever were.”

“I just want her to have fun. We didn’t put too much pressure on her to succeed, right?” Blaine asked, shining eyes full of worry.

Kurt stopped his mindless mangling and reached over to squeeze Blaine’s hand in his, soothed by the contact. “We barely allowed Ella to take ballet because we were afraid everyone would think we were grooming her to be a child star, remember? This was all her idea, B. We’re just along for the ride.”

“You’re right,” Blaine said, exhaling deeply. “Sorry, I think I picked up some backstage jitters when we delivered El to Miss Ruth.”

“Hey, at least you’re worried for her overall well-being. I’m afraid she’s going to forget the routine and start crying, and you’ll have to physically hold me down to keep me from running on that stage to comfort her,” Kurt admitted.

“Better that than you trying to dance along from here,” Blaine joked, rubbing a thumb over the back of Kurt’s hand. “If you turn into Regina George’s mom on me, I’m going to be really concerned.”

“Oh Jesus, just shoot me if I ever go that far,” Kurt said, aghast.

Before he could secure a promise from Blaine (and he would, he was _not_ going to become a crazed stage parent if he could help it), the lights flashed twice, signalling the show was about to begin. As the last few stragglers wandered in, Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand again and silently thanked the recital organizers that the littlest kids were going first. If he’d had to wait through five or six other numbers before getting to see Ella, he might have done something rash.

Once the house lights were down, Miss Ruth led her little troupe of yellow-clad ballerinas onstage, stopping periodically to place each girl at her starting mark. Ella was just right of center from their viewpoint, and Blaine slipped out of his seat to kneel in the aisle and record the performance, followed by a hissed “Get a few stills, too!” from Kurt.

Finally, _finally_ , the music came on and Ella perked up, a broad, genuine smile erupting on her small face. All she’d been able to talk about for weeks was the routine Miss Ruth was teaching them, the music it was set to - “Beauty and the Beast” - and the costumes they were going to wear, just like Belle’s own ball gown. Kurt was glad to see that her enthusiasm had lasted this long and beamed back at his daughter, well aware that she probably couldn’t see him over the bright stage lights but too proud to care.

Kurt spent the next minute and a half watching his baby in rapture as she pirouetted, leaped, and skipped across the stage like she had learned, obviously having the time of her life. While she wasn’t exactly going to take professional companies by storm at the tender age of three, Kurt privately believed that she was easily the most talented of the bunch, always flicking her fingers and pointing her toes with pizzazz, if not always right on the beat. The other little girls were constantly distracted or forgetting the moves, though they were of course all incredibly adorable.

Then, Ella surprised him. She stopped mid- _plie_ and straightened up, peering out into the audience with one little hand over her eyes. After a moment of scanning, she stopped and waved directly at Kurt and Blaine.

Kurt’s mouth dropped open as he turned to stare at Blaine, who looked similarly stunned.

“Daddy! Papa! Hi!” Ella squealed, just barely audible over the music. “Am I doin’ good?”

“You’re the best, baby!” Blaine called back, shifting his phone to one hand and waving back with the other.

“Now keep going!” Kurt followed up, aware of the stares being directed their way and wanting to make sure the little girls got the attention they deserved. “You’re almost done!”

“Right!” Ella said happily. She turned and wiggled her way back into the group of girls currently parading in a circle around center stage before striking the ending pose - hands over their head like big circles, one foot pointed outward - in time with everyone else.

Kurt let out a couple of loud whoops and clapped with the other parents as Blaine slid back into his seat, recording complete.

“I’m so glad I got this on video,” he whispered, applauding politely with his typical stiff-fingered clap. “Your dad is going to cry from laughing so hard.”

“I’m not sure if Rachel is going to love her exuberance or be chagrined by her lack of professionalism,” Kurt replied. “I, for one, think she’s the best ballerina I’ve ever seen.”

“You and me both,” Blaine said. “We could have a little professional on our hands.”

“As long as they don’t train her out of looking for her daddies on stage, I’m okay with that.”

“Even if she interrupts a _pas de deux_ to wave at us?”

“Especially then. It would add some character,” Kurt said, playfully tossing his head up and sniffing.

“Well, we’re in no danger of becoming creepy stage parents,” Blaine said with a wink before politely focusing back on the dancers.

The rest of the recital went past in a blur until it was time to pick up Ella from the green room.

“Papa! Daddy!” Ella yelled, running for them. Kurt dropped down and opened his arms for her, lifting and spinning her once she’d crashed into him.

“You were amazing, sweet pea!” Kurt said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“The best ballerina we’ve ever seen,” Blaine confirmed, and smacked a kiss to the other side of her face.

“Really?” Ella asked.

“Really really,” Kurt said, nodding seriously.

“And do you know what good ballerinas get after a performance?” Blaine said. When Ella shook her head no, he continued, “Ice cream!”

“Ice cream!” Ella repeated delightedly. “Let’s go now!”

“First we have to put your street clothes back on, baby,” Blaine said, making Ella pout.

“But my costume is so p’itty!”

“What if you spill on it?” Kurt asked.

“I won’t! P’omise!” Ella insisted, bouncing eagerly in Kurt’s arms.

Kurt shared a quick look with Blaine before telling Ella it would be okay to wear her costume, already taking mental stock of what their stain remover situation at home was like. They’d learned quickly to pick their battles, and this one wasn’t worth it.

(Sure enough, Ella was a slightly ice cream stained Belle that Halloween. The tiny smudge of brown on her collar didn’t detract from her beatific smile at going trick or treating with Lumiere and Cogsworth, though.)


End file.
